Fang and Claw
by anonymous1222
Summary: 1982, Voldemort has fallen but tensions are high as a new darkness rises. Muggle-born John Long is placed in Slytherin, despite his lineage, and he must face not only the prejudice of being in the House that gave the world one of the darkest wizards in history, but also the ostracism from members of his own house due to his status as a muggle-born. Starts off 1st year; jumps to 5th


"Fang and Claw"

Part 1: A New World

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizar_ds)_

Dear Mr. Jonathan Long,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Even after running through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 and boarding the Hogwarts Express, John could not believe the contents of the letter. Always a little suspicious of others, he had believed that everything he had witnessed up until this point involving this mysterious Hogwarts had been some elaborate prank set up by his parents. Even when the eccentric Professor Dumbledore led him and several other muggle-borns, as he called them, through Diagon Alley to pick up their school supplies, he couldn't shake the feeling that, at any moment, someone was going to stick a camera in his face and tell him it had all been some elaborate prank.

But now that he was on the train, surrounded by so many other students practicing magic, he knew that it had to be real. And as a towering Castle beyond the lake came into view on the horizon, eleven-year-old John Long felt as if he had finally found a place where he would belong. Speechless, the boy ran a hand through his messy mop of blonde hair, a habit he had picked up from his mother whenever he was feeling nervous.

He carefully folded the letter and slid it into is pocket before turning to face the only other person in his compartment, a boy in tattered robes with messy red hair, freckles, and pale skin, who had, before introducing himself, fallen asleep, mouth agape in the seat across from him. Not wanting to disturb the boy's sleep, John looked back out the window until the train came to a halt.

The red haired boy awoke with a start and pressed his nose right up against the glass, "We're here," he said, his voice filled with amazement, "have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" He turned to face John with a toothy smile and an outstretched hand, "I'm Bill Weasley by the way."

"John Long," John said as he shook the boys hand.

"You're a first year too, aren't you?" Bill said excitedly when he noticed that John did not have a House Badge on his robes, "So do you know what House you wanna be in?"

"I'm sorry," John said, confused, "House?" He had assumed that, like his old boarding school, all the students would have a room in one distinct building, "there are houses?"

"You're American," Bill said, commenting on John's accent.

"Yeah…well, I was born in America, and my parents live there. But I go to a boarding school in London. Umm, what were you saying about houses?"

"Right where do you wanna live?"

"You get to choose where you live?" this Hogwarts was becoming more and more strange by the moment.

"What? Of course not, you get sorted," Bill said with a laugh, "But my family's all been in Gryffindor for generations. I don't think my mum would be too pleased if I broke that trend. What about you, what house were your parents in?"

"Well," John said, hesitant to reveal that he too did not come from a wizard family, "I, um, my parents didn't come here."

Bill leaned closer to John, "Wait, so you're muggle-born?" John nodded, "Oh my," bill said excitedly, "this is great. I've always wanted friends from a muggle family. My dad's always going on about muggles and their ways. He tells me that they fix electrical appliances simply by hitting them, is this true?"

John did not know how to respond to such a strange question, but thankfully he was saved by an upper classman with a large P sown onto his robes, "You two better hurry," she said in a lofty voice, "we're heading to the castle soon.

The two boys quickly gathered their things before following the girl off the train, where they, along with all the other first years, were huddled in front of a giant man with wild hair, "Everyone," he addressed the students, "My name is Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds here at Hogwarts. We are about to make our way to the castle, so everyone find a boat to cross the lake on. No more than five per boat please, ye wouldn't want to fall into that lake." Hagrid led them to the edge of the lake where the students quickly separated themselves into groups of five. Bill pushed John into a boat with him and three other students, two male and one female.

The first boy, a small, pudgy kid with a buzz cut and big ears, stared straight ahead, as if to block out any of his surroundings. The other boy, a tall kid with straight brown hair and a confidant smile sat in the front of the boat, his fingers dragging in the black water, and his back turned to the castle, almost as if it weren't worth his time. The fifth student in their boat was a girl, almost as tall as the confidant boy, with equally straight brown hair tied in a ponytail and sharp eyes directed at the castle.

John looked around the boat and, realizing that there were no oars, pulled on Bill's sleeve and asked, "Hey, how are we going to get across with no oars?"

"With magic, duh," the confidant boy chimed in as if such a thing were common knowledge. But before John could question any further, the boat pushed forward of its own accord and they, along with Hagrid and the other first years, made their way across the lake.

John had never been a fan of water, a phobia that had prevented him from learning how to swim, despite his parents' and coaches' many attempts. As the boat magically made its way across the water, he found himself gripping the edge tighter and tighter, and he refused to open his eyes until he felt someone tap on his shoulder, "Can you believe this?" He opened his eyes and the girl was looking at him with a smile, "it's beautiful, isn't it." After this, despite his fear of the lake below, John found himself oddly calmed as he got closer and closer to the school.

As soon as the students reached shore, the girl smiled at John before rushing off to join a group of girls from another boat. She then pointed toward John and whispered something, causing the rest of the girls to laugh, and John to blush. One everyone had gotten out of their boats, it got eerily quiet. Then Hagrid got in front of them and shouted, "Everyone, follow me through the dungeons. Please, do your best to stay with the group, you never know what rotten creature you may find down here," John couldn't help but notice a bitter tone in the man's words with this passing comment. Hagrid lifted his lantern high and led the students into the dungeons and its many dark corridors.

John could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his heart rate growing faster and faster every time they turned a corner. He could feel his hand shaking at his side, so, to hide his nervousness, he shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to slow his breathing. Looking around, he noticed that many students had done similar actions. But as Hagrid opened the door at the end of a corridor and light flooded the chamber, and a feeling of awe swept over the students.

It was the most magnificent thing John had ever seen. Stairs climbed higher than John could clearly see and, even more impressively, they seemed to be moving at odd intervals. And the grand, antique appearance of the Entrance Hall almost made his knees give out beneath him as he stepped forward to take his first step into his new home. He was so taken by everything around him, that he could have sworn he even saw the suits of armor and the people in the pictures moving.

"First years," shouted an old woman in a green cloak waiting by a pair of large, wooden double doors, "Everyone, gather round." The students, guided by the woman's old, but commanding voice, quickly filed in front of the woman. "Welcome to Hogwarts. My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall," John straightened up at the mention of the name signed on his letter. In a moment, you are going to be let into the Great Hall where you will be sorted into one of four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I expect you all to be on your best behavior." The woman then turned around and the doors opened on their own, as if to beckon the incoming tide of students into the massive room.

Countless students sat at four tables that stretched the entire length of the hall. John noticed that above each table was a banner that bore its own color and animal, which John figured signified each of the four houses.

The first years congregated at the front of the hall, before the row of teachers seated at the long table on the elevated platform. And between the mass of new students and the teachers stood a three-legged stool, atop which was perched an old, patched up hat, which started singing a song about the founding of Hogwarts. But John, his nerves and amazement, most of which at this moment came from the fact that a hat was talking, were getting the best of him, so he was unable to focus on any of the words.

And after the hat finished its song, Professor McGonagall quickly explained the sorting process before opening a scroll and calling out the first name, "Cecillia Amma."

The room fell silent as the tall girl with the ponytail from the boat slowly walked to the stool and sat down. And the moment professor McGonagall placed the sorting hat on her head, the hat shouted, "Ah, the first student to be sorted since the fall of the Dark Lord. Now, let us see what your mind has to say. Hmm, a smart girl. A very logical brain you have, my dear, though you don't know quite how to use it. Well, I think it's clear where you belong," the hat paused for a moment, and John could feel the tension building up, "RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted, and the table beneath the blue and bronze banner exploded into cheers, and the other tables, save for the one beneath the silver and green banner, joined in light applause.

Cecillia took off the hat and handed it back to the professor before rushing to the Ravenclaw table where she sat down between an empty seat and an older girl who patted her on the back with a smile.

Once the applause died down, McGonagall read the next name on the list, "Gordan Amma."

The confident boy, who John now realized must be Cecilia's brother, walked up to the stool with a smile on his face that toed the line between confident and smug. Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head. "Ahh, twins, I see," the hat said, "but I see much difference between you and your sister." John quickly looked back at the girl who was just sorted and noticed that she was on the edge of her seat, waiting to see where her fraternal twin was to be sorted, "So, do I put you with your sister? You sure are clever. But you also seem determined. But for what? Hmm….I know….GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table erupted into applause as the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables joined in politely. However, John noticed that several students from the Slytherin table had started booing as Gordon made his way to the Gryffindor table.

The list went on and on. Sometimes the hat would take a few minutes to sort the student, and other times it would announce a house the moment the hat touched upon a student's head. And when Professor McGonagall announced John's name, he felt his heart stop. Shaking, he made his way to the stool and sat down. With the entire school's gaze upon him, he had never been more afraid in his life. And as he felt the hat settle on his ears, it started speaking. To him it sounded as if it was speaking in his ear, but he knew that whatever was said was being announced to the entire school, "Ahhh, aren't you an interesting one. You have ambition, no doubt about that. And oh are you cunning, it has been some time since I have seen such thoughts in a mind so young. But I don't see the confidence you need to put them to good use. And such a protective instinct."

The hat paused, contemplating its decision, "My you are a tough one, and you surely are not of a typical background. But I think I know where you truly will shine…" the wait was killing John, and every passing second felt like an hour, but before long, the hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" and the table beneath the silver and green banners exploded into applause as John, the first student to be sorted into the house, smiled as the hat was removed from his head and he made his way to the table. But few others cheered. As he made his way to his house's table, he noticed that the other tables just stared in silence. And as he looked across the great hall at Cecillia, he noticed that she had a concerned look on her face.

Confused, he sat down between two second years who offered him a seat. And as Professor McGonagall continued reading from her list, John noticed similar reactions for every student sorted in Slytherin. And when the woman closed the scroll and announced the end of the sorting, John wondered what was it about Slytherin House that had caused such reactions from the other students?

As the final congratulations went around the table, Professor Dumbledore stood up and raised his hands, quieting the entire hall, "And so passes another sorting," he said, his voice ringing clearly throughout the room, "Everyone look around you, and remember the faces of the young men and women you surround you on this day. For you are the future of our world. And it is important, especially after such a dark age, that you remember that first impressions are not everything," John could see the man's eyes dart toward the Gryffindor table, "and that sometimes it is up to you to change how you are seen by the world," his eyes almost seemed fixed on Slyherin now, "I have witnessed, in these past years, rivalry turn to hatred. I have seen the deepest mistrust between students who did not even know each other's names. But now it is up to us….it is up to us to prove that we are strong enough to move forward as a school. Lest we be stuck in a past filled with darkness and hate."

The air suddenly turned heavy at the Headmaster's solemn words. No one clapped, and even the teachers seemed shocked by what the man had said. But then, out of nowhere, Dumbledore gave a single thunderous clap, and his serious expression turned into a jovial smile, "But enough talk of troubled pasts. Tonight is a night of celebration, and a time to make new acquaintances, so, without further ado, let the feast begin."

With a wave of his hand, limitless quantities of food of all kinds appeared on the tables, and John couldn't help but let his jaw drop at the sight. And the moment he got a whiff of the smell, his hunger caught up with him. He reached forward and grabbed a chicken leg from the serving platter and took a bite and nearly cried at how delicious it was. "No more crappy cafeteria food," he said excitedly as he filled his plate with a bit of everything he could get his hands on.

He was happy. And despite the cold reaction from the other houses, the other students in Slytherin were treating him kindly….

"Get up, Mudblood," a third year Slytherin said as he pulled John up from the ground of the Slytherin Common Room by his hair. A ring of Slytherins, including the Head Boy and Girl cheered as the older, much larger student dragged John across the floor and threw him into a wooden chair.

"Why are you doing this?" John said, fighting back his tears.

"Because," the boy said as he ruffled his black hair, "you are a filthy Mudblood," he then grabbed John by the back of the neck and squeezed, sending a jolt of pain through the young boy, "and this is how your kind deserve to be treated," he released his hold on John, who let his head fall limp.

"What is a Mudblood?" John asked.

The boy winded up and smacked John across the face with the back of his hand, causing his nose to start bleeding, "a Mudblood is a muggle-born scum like you. Filthy," he smacked John again, causing him to bleed even more, "disgusting," another smack, "and unworthy of bearing the title of the Great Slytherin." The crowd cheered him on.

"Kick his ass, Crowley," one of the first year girls shouted.

Crowley grabbed John by the collar and hoisted him up from the chair, "Gotta give the audience what they want, Mudblood," and with a smile, he wound up and punched John in the eye.

The last thing John remembered before everything went dark was being surrounded by laughter as he hit the stone floor.

John awoke the next day on the ground, his face covered in bruises and dried blood. He looked at his watch and, realizing that he only had a few minutes to find his first class, he painfully stood up, collected his bag from his bed, and headed out of the common room.

Part 2: Scum

John, thankful that potions, his first class, wasn't too far from Slytherin House walked through the large wooden door to the classroom, panting. He looked around for a bit before spotting a free seat beside Bill Weasley and another Gryffindor boy. With a smile he made his way over, "Hey Bill, good to see you."

"My god," Bill said in a concerned tone upon looking at John's face, "what happened to you?"

"Nothing," John said as he spotted several first year Slytherins who had cheered on Crowley the night before, "just some magic that backfired," he lied, and Bill, though somewhat doubtful, seemed to accept this. "So, mind if I join?"

Bill was about to open his mouth to say yes, but his friend quickly interjected, "Of course we do," the boy said, almost as if he were angry at John for simply asking, "We don't associate with Slytherin scum."

All eyes were on John and the Gryffindor boy now, and John couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, "Scum…ha…that's….that's rich," he said as he ran his hand through his hair, thinking back to the night before when the very house that he was now being bullied for being in had egged on his own harassment. He looked at Bill who quickly broke eye contact with John, "Right," John said, disheartened, "well then, I'll just find somewhere else," in an attempt to not show that they were getting to him he flashed a smile their way before heading to an empty desk in the back.

It wasn't long before a young professor, the new man on staff named Severus Snape charged into the classroom and magically slammed the door behind him. "I am Professor Snape," he said in a cold tone. "Some of you may see potions as dull, boring, and lifeless. And at times you may feel that, in a world dominated by spells and wand waving, such a subject may seem trivial. But don't be fooled, if you are careless, you may find yourself in more danger here than in any other class."

A boy in the front row snickered, and Snape's gaze darted toward the boy, "You think I am joking," he said, and the boy went silent, "I am not saying this to try and impress you. I can't tell you the amount of classmates I had that were sent to Madam Pomfrey because they were fooling around over a cauldron. So, if I even think—"

"Bollocks," Snape was cut off by the sound of a girl shouting after trying unsuccessfully to get into the classroom. "Alohomora," the girl said, and the door swung open, and in walked Cecilia Amma. "Sorry I'm late, professor" she called up to Snape as everyone, the professor included, were stunned by her entrance. She turned and was about to sit down when she noticed John sitting at the desk.

She turned to head to another free seat when Snape shouted, "Sit down, 10 points from Ravenclaw," the other Ravenclaws around the classroom groaned, and Cecilia quickly sat with John. "That door was locked."

"I know," she said energetically, "but I learned this spell from my mother that—"

"The door was not a test of your knowledge of basic spell casting," Snape said as he approached the girl, "5 points from Ravenclaw," again, the groans from the Ravenclaws echoed around the room, "You should learn to be more wary of locked doors in your future, girl. Next time you might not run into something as pleasant as I."

Snape marched back to the front of the room, "Today we are going to learn a simple potion used for curing boils. Those of you with even a shred of competency should have no trouble with this," he said, casting a dark look toward Cecilia. He then waved his wand toward the chalkboard, and a set of procedures magically appeared, "You have until the end of class. Ingredients can be found on the desk at the front of the room."

Throughout the lesson, Snape walked up and down the classroom, inspecting everyone's potions and criticizing their work—and occasionally their stupidity. When he finally made it back to Cecilia, he looked at her with a scowl, "What is this?" he said, pointing to a potion that, to John, looked no worse than most of the other students' potions. "Did you even read the directions, you are supposed to stir clockwise, not counterclockwise."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't know."

"Didn't know?" Snape said coldly. He then flicked his wand, causing a bit of the potion to jump out and land on her parchment, which instantly burst into flames, "Generally when one wishes to remove boils, they'd like to live to see the results. 5 more points from Ravenclaw." John could see Cecilia clenching her fists beneath the table as her knuckles turned white.

"And you…." Snape said as he approached John's cauldron, but as he looked up at the boy, he noticed the bad shape of his face, "what happened to you?" Snape asked confused.

"Just an accident."

"Huh," Snape said as he took another look at the cauldron, "well, let's hope this work wasn't an accident," he said as he dipped a flask in the cauldron and took a sample. "Don't let the muddle get in your way," he said, casting a dirty look at Cecilia, "10 points to Slytherin," he announced as he held the potion sample aloft. "Leave your cauldrons as they are. Today's lesson is over."

Cecilia quickly gathered her things and ran out of the classroom. Wanting to make sure that she was okay, John picked up his things and ran after her.

"Cecilia," he shouted after her, but she just picked up her pace, "Cecilia wait up, I just want to—"

"Locomotor Mortis," a boy shouted, and John felt he legs snap together before he crashed to the ground. "Well, well, look who we have here, it's the mudblood," John turned onto his back and sat up to see Crowley walking over to him, wand in hand. John reached into his bag and pulled out his wand, but with a flick of his wand, Crowley shouted, "Expelliarmus," and John's wand flew out of his hand and out of sight.

"What do you want," John said as he tried to stand up, but the curse prevented him from doing so with Crowley standing over him.

"Nothing," Crowley said with a smile, "just wanted to say hello," he then stepped over John, making sure to clip him on the head with his shoe as he did so, before disappearing around the corner.

"Crap," John said as he dragged himself to his feet and attempted to hop toward his wand. However, after only a few steps, he lost his balance and once again crashed to the floor. "Well, this is just great," he said when suddenly his wand was held in front of his face. "What the—" he said as he craned his neck back to see Cecilia kneeling beside him with his wand in hand. "Thanks," he said before she performed the counter curse and once again ran off.

"Strange girl," he said as he got to his feet and started making his way out of the dungeon.

Part 3: Talent

If there was ever a time when John could have used a strong dose of confidence, it would have been during his first day of Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall had just finished a rather long and lengthy speech about how difficult their transfiguration studies would be throughout their stay at Hogwarts. She had told them that their first assignment would be to turn a match into a needle and, after half the class period, only Cecilia and her brother had managed to do so.

"This?" Gordon said smugly as the students beside him stared in awe as he turned the match into a needle and back repeatedly, "I was teaching Ceci over there how to do this when I was only six years old." The other students oohed and ahhed, but Cecilia only hung her head down in embarrassment.

Meanwhile, John was pulling out yet another match after his last attempt at transfiguration caused the last one to fly across the room and hit a sleeping boy in the head. He then took a deep breath and tried once again, but the match didn't so much as move, "Crap," John said as he sat back in his chair. He stared at the ceiling, doubting he should even be at this school when he felt something drop in his lap.

He looked down and saw a note. He turned to his right and made eye contact with Cecilia who quickly turned away. He looked down and opened the note and, in neat cursive, it said, 'flick up before the incantation.' He looked back toward Cecilia who still was turned away, so he turned his attention back to his match and took a deep breath. Paying attention to the note, he flicked his wand up and then said the incantation, and right before his eyes, the match changed into a needle.

He smiled as Professor McGonagall made her way over, "Very good, Mr. Long," she said as she inspected the needle, "Now can you change it back?" she said as she looked over at Gordan, who was still showing off, "The same incantation will do," she then placed the needle back onto the deck.

John nodded, "Yes professor," he said excitedly before flicking his wand up energetically before saying the incantation, however, instead of turning back into a match, the needle exploded with a loud bang, and John felt himself getting pushed back by the force of the blow and ash covered his front and his desk.

"A little too much excitement, Mr. Long?" Professor McGonagall magically wiped ash off of her robes as the class erupted into laughter.

And John, covered in Ash, turned to Cecilia, who flashed him a smile before letting out a bit of a chuckle as she magically cleaned the ash off of her own robes.

"Thank you," John said as he caught up Cecilia after class, "you really helped me out."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, picking up her pace as they entered the courtyard, "and you should really clean yourself up."

"I don't know the spell."

"Simple," she said with a smile, "you go into a bath and turn the knob. Some people find that singing helps with the process."

John chuckled at the joke, "Also, thanks for earlier. You know, with the counter curse. I would have been in a lot of trouble otherwise."

"Look," Cecilia said, her tone turning sour, "Don't you have, like, a Dark Lord worship meeting or something to get to?"

John stared at her confused for a beat, "Wh…what?" he stammered.

"Isn't that what you Slytherins do? Don't you worship the Death Eaters and all of that?"

"What's a Death Eater?" John asked.

"Don't joke around," she said, getting serious, "Every magical family has lived in fear of he-who-must-not-be-named and his Death Eaters for years, and you expect me to believe that you don't know anything about them? You're American, but don't think for a minute that I'll accept that a wizard could be so ignorant of their own world."

"My parents are muggles."

"Don't lie to me," she shouted at him, "You must think I'm stupid. First you claim not to know anything about he-who-must-not-be-named, and now you say that you, a Slytherin, the blood-obsessed house, are muggle-born."

"…Yes."

Cecilia stared at him in a mixture of confusion and anger, and seemed like she was about to tell him off, before storming off, muttering angrily to herself, leaving John more confused than ever.

From the window of her classroom, McGonagall and Dumbledore watched Cecilia storm away from John in the courtyard below. "Is he going to be okay, Albus?" McGonagall asked the headmaster, "a muggle-born in Slytherin…he's not going to have an easy life."

"Not many are blessed with one in the first place, Minerva. Besides, the sorting hat has spoken."

"But we could make an exception. You heard Snape's report. Someone assaulted him," she hesitated before continuing, "Or….maybe Hogwarts is not the place for him."

"The only other option for him would be Wizzik's School in America. And you know that he is far safer here given the fact that he is muggle-born."

"There are other options," she said nervously, "Perhaps it would be best for him to continue life as a muggle," McGonagall clenched her hands in front of her, pained by what she had just said.

"That is not our decision to make. In this day and age, all muggle borns must deal with prejudice. If we remove him from the school all of the work this school has done in moving toward peace will be for nothing, and I'm not just speaking about the muggle-borns."

"What are you getting at, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"If we move him out of that House, we will be showing the students that attacked him that they can get their way through violence. We have to help him grow up to defend himself. Otherwise we will be doing far more harm than help."

Part 4: Alone

John spent the rest of the day in the library looking up everything he could about Death Eaters and they're leader, Voldemort. With each page he became more and more appalled with the atrocities that he and his followers had committed, and disgust at they fact that his house seemed to admire such work.

With a heavy sigh, John threw the last book closed and sat back in his chair.

As the year went on, John still had not been able to make friends within or out of his House. Everyone in his house knew he came from a non-magical family, and everyone in the other houses thought of him as a Death Eater, which, after some research in the library, he finally learned about.

Since reading about Voldemort and his followers, he had tried to distance himself from the other Slytherins, sometimes going as far as to not eat at the tables in the dining hall. On some occasions he had even slept on the couches on the seventh floor, until he got caught by professor McGonagall, who sent him back to his dorm.

He hadn't even talked to Cecilia or Bill since the first day of classes, and now neither of them would even look him in the eye.

To top things off, his scores were mediocre, and if he didn't pull his act together in time for exams in a month, there was no way he would pass. He still had trouble performing even the most basic of spells, and the History of Magic Teacher was about as dull as you could get. He did manage to get the hang of flying relatively quickly, however, he soon discovered that the course would do nothing for his grades.

Thankfully, however, he had managed to find some competency in his Herbology and Potions classes. And today, Snape was at the front of the classroom, scolding a couple of students in the front row for nearly knocking over a cauldron of some unknown concoction. He scolded them harshly before docking 10 points from their houses each before addressing the class, "Today you are going to brew a mild form of the drought of living death," he started, "You do not need to know how to brew its more potent form until your sixth year, but you will be required to have basic knowledge of this potion for your exams. Remember this is a noxious potion which can affect you simply by inhaling its vapors, so use extreme caution while preparing and handling it," with a flick of his wand, he put the instructions on the board, "work as tables. The last thing I need is for 40 droughts releasing their fumes throughout the dungeons."

John looked over at Cecilia, who had started to stand up, when Snape wordlessly whipped his wand around and pushed her back into her seat as if with an invisible hand, "Work at your table," he snapped coldly at her, before sitting at his desk.

"Shall we?" John said, but Cecilia only scowled as she pulled out her potions kit. John pulled out his as well and the two began work.

The two worked in silence as they prepared all of their materials, with quite some difficulty, especially with the Sophophorous beans. And once they had all of the materials prepped, they started following the procedures. John had to stop Cecilia a few times when she was about to add the wrong ingredient or when she stirred in the wrong direction, but at the end of everything, their potion was the same color as the picture in the textbook, albeit a few shades darker.

John raised his hand to signal that they had finished, and Snape marched over. He reached into his robes and pulled out a glass vial containing a spider. With his wand he caused the spider to float out of the vial and he held it aloft over the cauldron where it soon went limp.

"Not as strong as I would have preferred," he said flatly, "And certainly not up to your usual work, Mr. Long, but I guess some things just can't be helped," he said as he looked down at Cecilia with a harsh glare that caused her to sink down into her chair, "Each of you, flask your sample, then you may leave. Make sure you bring them to class tomorrow so that we may see how they kept."

The two flasked a sample of the potion and packed up their things. John turned to try and talk to Cecilia, but she had already dashed out of the classroom. "Cecilia," he called out, and his voice echoed throughout the dungeons, "Cecilia, wait up." He made his was through the stone corridors, nearing the great hall, "Cecilia, I just want to—" He stopped at the sound of someone crying. He turned the corner and saw Cecilia sitting beneath the painting of two witches brewing a potion, crying. "Cecilia, are you okay?"

"Get away from me, Slytherin," she shouted at him as she buried her head deeper into her arms, "just go away."

John took a step forward and sat down beside her, "You knew I was a Slytherin in transfiguration that first day of classes," he said as he pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her, "why did you help me then?"

"Because…." She sobbed, "you seemed lonely. But then you lied to my face."

John paused for a moment, "Do you know why I'm here, and not at a school in America?" He took a deep breath. He had never had any intention of revealing the truth behind his placement in Hogwarts, but he felt that, if he wanted Cecilia's trust, he would have to come clean, "when I first met Dumbledore this past summer, he told me that most schools would never look past the fact that my parents are muggles. That at the American school, bullying muggle-borns isn't even discouraged. So he offered me a place here. And you know what," he said, looking over to Cecilia, who now was looking him right in the eyes with a horrified look on her face, "I thought that for the first time, I wasn't going to be alone."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I may be in Slytherin, but that doesn't mean I am like the rest of them. And what Snape said in class….that was wrong."

Cecilia leaned her head against the stone and sniffled before letting out a pained chuckle, "You know, my brother always got credit for everything. He would ask me for help whenever we took our parents wands, but then he would show off with whatever I taught him," she chuckled, "granted, now he's much more clever than I when it comes to spells. But everyone would always talk about what a promising student he would be. And my parents seemed to just forget about me." She closed her eyes and chuckled, "And here I am, unable to take criticism from my teachers. I guess I'm just no good, huh?" she looked down with a sad smile.

John shook his head, "No. Don't….Don't ever say that," John stood up and offered her his hand. As he helped her to her feet he continued, "I've seen you in Transfiguration and Charms. You and your brother both blow all of us out of the water. So what if he takes the credit? One day you'll show him that he can't push you around forever."

"Thanks, John," she said and she handed back his handkerchief, "It really means a lot that—"

"Well well, what do we have here," John and Cecilia turned to see Gordon and the Gryffindor boy and girl from his table at potions, "Ceci, don't tell me that you've been hanging out with this loser," he pulled out his wand and shouted, "Flipendo," and John was pushed back into the wall.

"John," Cecilia cried as she walked over to help him, "are you okay?"

"Don, Erin, pick her up," at Gordon's word, the boy and girl pulled Cecilia up and pulled her away from John. "Let's have a little fun," he cast another flipendo jinx at John, who was pushed back into the wall with a loud thud. "Don't think this is all I have," Gordon said, "I've been looking for someone to practice some new jinxes on," he raised his wand to cast another spell, but John reached into his bag and pulled out his flask from potions.

"Cecilia, don't breathe," john shouted as he held his breath and threw the potion at Gordon's feet, which burst into a plume of purple smoke. Gordon, along with his two cronies, fell to the ground as John grabbed Cecilia's arm and pulled her away from the smoke and the now unconscious students. They made there way into the great hall where they burst into laughter. "Too mild?" John said between fits of laughter, "I've never seen someone drop so fast."

Still laughing, the two climbed the stairs up to the second floor where they collapsed on the couches in the middle of the giant hall. "So," Cecilia started, finally regaining her breath, "how are you so good at potions? Snape has yelled at every student in that class by now, expect for you."

"I don't know. All of the wand waving and incantations just confuse me sometimes. Potions, I don't know….it just makes sense to me," John lied back on the couch, "I mean, my parents are both chemists. Part of the reason I went to boarding school is because they both will spend days in a lab away from home. What do your parents do?" John asked, "Do witches and wizards even work alongside muggles?"

"Sometimes, I think," Cecilia said, "My moms an Auror. She spent the past few years hunting you-know-who's death eaters. My dad works in the ministry, helping to make sure that muggles don't find out about our kind."

"How does that work with people like me? I mean, my parents know I'm a wizard."

"They have a charm placed on them that prevents them from telling anyone about that."

"Huh," John remarked as he sat up, "that's kinda scary, you know," he pulled out his wand, "When you think about everything that magic can do."

"But isn't that also what makes it wonderful, John," John and Cecilia jumped at the sudden arrival of Dumbledore, who stood above them, smiling, "Of course, it can't be denied that people have used magic harshly. But never let such things push you away from enriching your own mind. A potential for evil, after all, is not the same as being evil," he looked at the two over the rim of his glasses with a smile, "you two better get to class. Professor McGonagall, as I am sure you have found out, is not one to be kept waiting."

With that, the old man departed, and the two students picked up their bags and began running for their Transfiguration class.

Part 5: Test

John and Cecilia spent the next few weeks helping each other prepare for their end of year exams. Every day after classes the two would either head to the library to study or to an empty classroom to practice spells for a few hours out of the watchful eyes of Filch and his cat before going their separate ways for meals. Despite Cecilia's willingness to accept him as a friend, the other students still couldn't get past the fact that John was in Slytherin, so they kept their friendship a secret.

And the night before the first day of exams, the two were practicing for the one class that neither of them had any confidence in: Defense Against the Dark Arts. Both of them had managed the flipendo spell easily enough and John was finally making progress on counter curses, but no matter how hard they tried, the just couldn't get the hang of the Curse of the Bogies, and by extension its counter curse. John had even prepared a batch of Wiggenweld Potions, but the way things were going, neither of them were going to need the potion.

"It's getting late," Cecilia said after another failed attempt at the curse, "And we have our potions exam first thing in the morning. We may as well leave it at this and hope that it isn't covered on the exam."

John stared at her and concentrated hard, as if blocking out what she had just said, before swinging his wand toward her and shouting, "Mucus ad nauseam," but still nothing happened. "You're right," he said, sounding defeated, "let's go," the two turned and headed for the door.

"My my, what do we have here?" John and Cecilia stopped in their tracks with the appearance of Gordon and his cronies. "Aww, does my little sis have a crush on little squeaky Slytherin?"

"Bug off, Gordon," Cecilia said as she tried to push past her brother, but he simply pushed her back into the room, and he, Don, and Erin came in after her. John and Cecilia drew their wands, ready to defend themselves, but Gordon simply laughed.

"Please," he said, "let's be civil about this. I'll make you two a deal. If you two can beat me, I'll let you two go, no questions asked. But if I win, Squeak over there," he pointed to John, "gets to have a little chat with me and my friends."

"Fine," John said, and Cecilia looked back and mouthed 'No,' but John stepped forward, "you have a deal."

"Great," he said as he pulled out his own wand, "but one more thing. No tricks like last time, got it?" he pointed his wand at John, "Or I swear—"

But before Gordon could finish his statement, John had reached into his robes and thrown a vial of purple liquid at Gordon and his friend's feet, which then erupted into a very familiar cloud of purple smoke, causing Cecilia to take a step back as the three fell to the ground.

"John!" Cecilia shouted, "Was that—"

"Yes," John answered before she finished her question, "I brewed some up in case something like this happened." He grabbed her hand, and the two ran out of the room and ran to another room, which Cecilia had to open with alohomora, before entering the room and locking the door behind them.

"You know he's going to be angry when he wakes up," Cecilia said as the two sat on the ground of one of the muggle studies classrooms, out of breath.

"No duh," John said, "but Gordon's also the best in our defense against the dark arts class, so there's no way I'm dueling him." At this, Cecilia started laughing. "What?" John asked, "What's so funny?"

"John, I'm sorry to say, but that was very Slytherin of you back there. Very sneaky."

John paused for a moment, almost insulted, but even he couldn't contain his laughter, "Well, I guess the hat wasn't completely wrong then," after a bit of laughter, the two fell silent, "You know," John said, "You're brother isn't going to keep quiet about this."

"So what," Cecilia said as she tilted her head on his shoulder, "gits will be gits."

The two, exhausted after the night's events, fell asleep on the floor of the classroom.

Part 6: Running Late

The next morning, John woke up with Cecilia's head rested on his lap. He stretched his arms above his head and looked at his watch—9:27. He yawned once more and took a look around, as the memory of the night before slowly crept back to memory. But then, his heart skipped a beat and he looked at his watch again, "Cecilia," he screamed as he shook her awake, "Cecilia, wake up, we're going to be late."

"Five more minutes, Dad," she said sleepily, stubbornly refusing to get up.

"Potions," John said as he sat her up right and shook her awake, "our exam starts in 3 minutes.

Cecilia's eyes snapped open as she realized the full horror of the situation. The two got up and sprinted out of the room.

….

"Come on, John, you're going to be late," Cecilia shouted back to John as the two of them ran toward the quidditch pitch, "You don't want to miss your first official quidditch match, do you?"

"I'm not going to be late, Cecilia," John said as they arrived at the player's entrance, "Besides, shouldn't you be in the stands by now?" John was dressed in the green and silver Slytherin uniform and held an old Comet broomstick that he had borrowed from the school by his side.

"What, and miss seeing you off for your debut match as a Chaser?"

"A position, I would like to remind you, that I only got because of Snape." John remembered the heated argument that went on between Crowley and Snape concerning John's performance at tryouts. Crowley was determined not to have him on the team, but Snape refused to allow Crowley to sully the team by choosing a sub-par player because of personal reasons.

"Hush," Cecilia said as she raised her finger to his lips, "You've worked hard for this. Ever since we were a second years, you tried out for the team, and now, as a fifth year, you finally made it, despite everything your house has put you through." She hugged John, which was slightly awkward for him because, despite the fact that he had grown significantly over the past few years, she still managed to come out just a few inches taller. She broke the embrace and wished him good luck before running off to the spectator's entrance.

John ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath before entering the player's entrance where he joined the other six players on the team.

"Look here, Mudblood," Crowley, Beater and the Slytherin captain, said as he broke rank and grabbed John by the collar of his uniform, "if you get the quaffle you either score or pass. If you miss, so help me God, I will end you," he then gave John a slight push before making his way back to the front of the line.

Shortly after, the horns sounded, signaling the players to enter the pitch. All of them, save Crowley, mounted their brooms and flew into the pitch where they formed a semi-circle opposite the Gryffindor Team. John caught sight of Gordon opposite him in the circle of players. He had been the Gryffindor Seaker since their third year, and he flashed John a malicious smile, as if he were planning something.

John turned his attention to the ground below where Crowley and seventh year Margaret Denton, Gryffindor Chaser and Captain, met Madam Hooch. "Shake hands," he heard Hooch say, and the two gave possibly the shortest handshake John had ever seen, accompanied by a mutual look of disgust. The two then mounted their brooms and flew to their respective sides.

Madam Hooch kicked open the box at her feet, releasing the snitch and two bludgers before picking up the crimson quaffle and moving to the middle of the pitch. With a blow of her whistle, she threw the quaffle in the air, and the game had begun.

John quickly moved in for the crimson ball, but he was roughly shoved to the side. He had expected to see a flash of red pass him, but was shocked to see a Slytherin chaser with the quaffle in hand, looking back at him, laughing. Angry, John followed, ready to guard his man, despite the aggressive act.

From the right, John noticed two Gryffindor chasers racing after the Slytherin, so John quickly sped forward and blocked their path, nearly causing the three of them to collide, however, the two opposing chasers managed to swerve out of the way, averting a crash, but allowing the Slytherin chaser to make a clean shot at the left hoop. However, at the last second, the Gryffindor keeper managed to clip the quaffle with his fingertips, causing it to go wide.

John raced for the ball alongside Denton, just narrowly getting beaten by the more experienced player. However, he stayed hot on her tail, and managed to hook his arm around the quaffle and rip it free from her grasp, allowing it to drop to a Slytherin below.

Margaret quickly raced after the Chaser in possession. John turned around to follow as well, when he suddenly felt all the wind being expelled from his lungs as he was thrown back off his broom. A bludger had caught him in the stomach, and caused him to crash to the ground below. Thankfully it wasn't too bad of a fall, and John, after reorienting himself managed to climb back on his broom and continued playing. But he realized that no one on the Gryffindor side was cheering, and as he looked around the pitch, both of the Gryffindor beaters were on the other side of the pitch, desperately trying to throw the Slytherin seaker off the trail of the snitch.

"You better watch out, Mudblood," John whipped around and saw Crowley twirling his bat, "wouldn't want you getting hurt now would we," he then shot past John, laughing. Angry, John sped back into the fray, determined to not let Crowley get to him.

Half an hour into the match, neither team had scored and the snitch was nowhere in sight. Every time John had possession of the quaffle, someone, whether it be Gryffindor or Slytherin, managed to tackle him, or otherwise strip him of possession. Four fouls had been called on actions against him, only two of which actually involved a Gryffindor player.

And now he was racing toward the ground, aiming for the quaffle alongside an opposing chaser. He could see the chaser starting to pull up as they neared the ground, allowing John to retrieve the quaffle, however, a split second later, he felt a hand push down on the back of his head, causing him to crash into the ground with a solid thud.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, "Foul, possession 10 points to Slytherin," she screamed, "I will see no more of such play on my pitch," she said as she stripped the chaser of the quaffle and flew down and handed it to John. "The play is yours," she said before taking off on her broom.

John, his head spinning, limped back toward his broom, and fell forward as he tried to pick up his broom. However, he managed to push himself off the ground and get back on his broom. However, the moment he pushed himself off the ground, he felt something solid make contact with his head, and everything went dark.

Part 7: Worth

John woke up in the hospital wing a few hours later with a terrible headache.

"Thank god you're alright," John turned his head and saw Cecilia by his bedside, looking very relieved.

"What happened," he asked?

"Slytherin won," she said, "200 to 60."

"I missed a lot," John said softly, "god, what happened?"

"You took a bludger to the head," Cecilia said as she helped him sit upright, "An illegal bludger, I might add. The Gryffindor beater got thrown out of the game because he shot it at you before the whistle was even blown to resume play. Both teams are in a lot of trouble right now."

"It was that bad, huh?" John said, trying to force a laugh, but it caused his head to hurt too much.

"Apart from that last foul, the Gryffindors' actions probably had nothing to do with you personally," she said, "But the fact that you got targeted by your own team…." she paused, "needless to say, Madam Hooch was pissed. I hear Dumbledore himself is scolding them for their behavior ."

"He did," said Margaret Denton as she walked up to John's bed, "and trust me, it is not something I wish to repeat." She sat down by John's bed and took his hand in her own, "I am so sorry for how my team acted. It was unacceptable. I hope you don't think we are all like that." The look on her face seemed sincere, and John felt no reason to hold the actions of her team against her.

"Believe me," John said, his head clearing up enough to allow him a small laugh, "I know enough not to judge the individual based on the actions of a group."

"Thank you," she said as she stood up, "But if you're ever in a bind, just come to me. I'll be more than happy to help." She nodded to them as she turned and left the hospital ward, presumably to offer her own brand of punishment to her team.

"So," John said with a smile, "How would you rate my first match?"

"John," Cecilia responded, shocked at how lightly he was taking this, "you just spent the good portion of an hour getting the shit beaten out of you by not only the opposing team, but yours as well."

"Yeah, what else is new?" John said, his smile disappearing, "It's no different from the curses fired at me from the dark by random students simply because I'm a Slytherin who doesn't have the protection of the rest of his house. Cecilia, I don't know if you've noticed, but no other Slytherins get targeted like I do."

"I have noticed," she said softly.

"Do you know why?" he paused for a beat, "because every other person in my house has someone at his back, ready to protect him. Sure, for the most part they may be sneaky bastards with no concern but their own hide, but they are smart enough to know that the best protection they have are each other. And then there's me. Muggle-born, so right there I'm caste out of my own house. And true, I have you by my side. But we can't be together all the time. And you have friends of your own." This had been a concern with John for some time, and he had always been afraid that she would get targeted one day for associating with him.

"Why have you never brought this up before?" Cecilia gave him a concerned look.

"I never felt the need to. I fight back when I can. I accept it when I have to. It's a fact of life, Cecilia. Sometimes, people have no choice but to accept such things."

"I don't like it," Cecilia said as she squeezed her friend's hand, "but what I really don't like is how you are just so willing to go along with it."

"And that's why I like you," he said, putting his other hand on top of hers, "because you're willing to work with me, even when I'm being as thick as I am right now."

Madam Pomfrey came up to them, "Excuse me, miss," she said to Cecilia, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave for the night. Mr. Long can leave in the morning."

"Thank you," she said to the nurse, "Goodnight John. I'll come around tomorrow."

"Goodnight," John said as his friend headed out of the infirmary.

Part 8: Charity

"Back from your charity case, Cecilia?" Rose, Cecilia's best friend in Ravenclaw, said as Cecilia entered the common room. Rose was probably the prettiest girl in the house for their year, based off what Cecilia had heard around the halls. And she couldn't deny it. Long blond hair, blue eyes, smooth skin, and an hourglass figure that Cecilia would kill for; it was no wonder that Rose was rarely without a boyfriend.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cecilia said as she collapsed on a couch, exhausted after a few hours of worrying.

"You know, that Slytherin boy you're always seen talking to. Lanky, a bit shorter than you, ring any bells?"

"You mean John? He's a good friend of mine."

"You, friends with a Slytherin? Yeah right. Admit it, you feel sorry for him because he has no other friends."

"Well of course I feel sorry for him," Cecilia said, getting slightly annoyed. Her classmates who knew of their friendship had, for the most part, had the same assumptions as Rose, "but that's not why I hang out with him."

"Why is it then?" Rose asked as she sat across from Cecilia. "I mean, he is kinda cute, even if he is a little magically inept."

"Like I said, he's a friend," Cecilia asserted, raising her voice to a level she'd normally avoid.

"Wait a minute," Rose said as she leaned forward in her seat with a shocked look on her face, "you're blushing. You have a crush on Charity Case, don't you."

"Don't... Call him that," Cecilia shouted, and her friend's smile widened.

"You do, oh my god, you do have a crush on him." Rose put her hand on her friend's knee and playfully shook it.

"Shut up," Cecilia said with a small smile, "He's just a friend. Besides, he doesn't see me like that."

"Why not?" Rose asked as she leaned back in her seat, "Is he gay?"

"What, of course not. There's no way. I mean he…. well, he. He's just not, okay. He told me that he had a girlfriend over the summer once."

"Right," Rose said, not buying it, "I'm just saying, you never know. I've heard rumors that Professor Dumbledore is gay, you know."

At this, Cecilia couldn't help but burst into laughter, "You have to be kidding me, Dumbledore? No way."

"I'm just following the rumor mill," Rose said with a smile, "But hey, you want a good way to find out about your little friend?"

"What?" Cecilia leaned in expectantly.

Rose smiled before leaning in and whispering in her ear, "Make the first move."

Cecilia shot back in her seat, "You think I should?" she felt her heart starting to pound harder in her chest.

"What?" Rose said with a laugh, "No way. You're way to good for some slimy death eater. A cute girl like you deserves a real man. Like that Bill Weasley, I'm sure he fancies you."

"From Gryffindor?" Cecilia said, thinking back to the boy with long red hair. She had Transfiguration and Charms with the Gryffindors. After growing out of his awkward preteen years and becoming a prefect, the girls in their year seemed to have agreed that he was near the top of the list of most attractive classmates. However, the boy always seemed more interested in reading about Muggle superstitions about curses than any of their advances, so it didn't take long for him to drop off of most girls' radars.

"Yeah, I mean, come on. He's a god compared to Charity Case, though, to be fair, he seems that way to most people in my opinion."

"If he's such a….perfect specimen," Cecilia said, "then why don't you go after him?"

"Because," she said as she placed her hands on Cecilia's knees, "sometimes it is one friend's duty to forgo desires for the sake of the other." With that, Rose stood up and headed to the Girl's dorms, but before she disappeared up the stairs she called back, "By the way, I hope Charity Case feels better soon. Most men wouldn't have lasted half as long as he did."

The innuendo was completely lost on Cecilia, who was left alone to ponder over the conversation.

Part 9: Start of Darkness

That night, four seventh year students sat in a circle in the Room of Requirements, which, for the purpose of this meeting, only contained enough candles to illuminate the book that sat between them. Julius Dane, short but built, with a shaved head that he held high, in an attempt to make himself appear larger. To his left was Hank Gaul, a blond boy just barely taller than Julius, but far skinnier, almost to sickly levels. Next to him sat Selisa Shank, a girl with a sharp face and short, spiky black hair that had so much grease in it, even Snape's could not compare. And finally, closing the circle, was Crowley, who opened up the book.

"This curse," he said to the group, "will require extreme concentration from all of us," he looked around the group, "If you stop the incantation at any point, you may kill us all. But first, we have to prepare the spell. Do you all know what you need to do?" The group all nodded, and Crowley pulled out his wand, "Good. Now, my friends," he said with a smile, "Let us cleanse this school in the name of Salazar Slytherin, and Lord Voldemore."

-g-g-hp-g-g-

There's the first chapter. I hope to do at least an update a week, but considering the fact that I have classes, I don't know how faithful I can be to such a schedule.

Please review. I intend for this to be a long project, so any advice would be much appreciated.


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